


The Unfairness Of It All

by areyoureddiekids



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, and kissing, and mentions of sex, but they're seventeen, it's angsty i'm so sorry, might be light smut later but super light, there is child abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-08 06:00:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12248406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoureddiekids/pseuds/areyoureddiekids
Summary: It was a Tuesday, and it was officially the worst day of Richie Tozier’s life. There were two reasons that contributed to this fact, and these are those reasons.The first was that Eddie Kaspbrak had a girlfriend. A quiet girl that was in Richie’s Biology class, but a fucking girl all the same.The second was that it was the first time in Richie’s seventeen years that his father hit him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how many chapters this will have, but it's gonna be angsty and Richie is emo and it's all a bit shit. This first chapter doesn't have much Eddie, but trust me when I say that the next one will. I'm posting this on my tumblr too - it's areyoureddiekids.

It was a Tuesday, and it was officially the worst day of Richie Tozier’s life. There were two reasons that contributed to this fact, and these are those reasons. 

The first was that Eddie Kaspbrak had a girlfriend. A quiet girl that was in Richie’s Biology class, but a fucking girl all the same. 

The second was that it was the first time in Richie’s seventeen years that his father hit him. 

He was walking out of school when he found out about Eddie. Stan had all but grabbed Richie’s arm in a vice-like grip and pulled him to a stop in front of a herd of cheerleaders, all of whom had tittered and whined and walked around the duo. Richie had been digging around in his jean pockets for his lighter and cigs, and glared pointedly at Stan as the tall boy (though, not as tall as Richie’s 6’2) dragged Richie’s onto the grass and away from the path.

‘The fuck, Stanley?’ Richie had grumbled, yanking his arm from Stan’s grip and narrowing his gaze behind his thick lens glasses. ‘What the fuck is up with you, man?’

‘I need to tell you something,’ Stan the Man had said, and Richie had immediately grown concerned. Stan usually said most things with a degree of seriousness or sarcasm, depending on his mood, but in that moment, there was an urgency to his voice. Hell, the more Richie looked, the more he started to see that Stan looked concerned. For Richie.

‘Shit – what? Did your balls finally drop?’ He couldn’t help but throw that in there because, fuck, this was all a bit too serious for Richie. They were supposed to be going round Bill’s that night, as it was his turn to host the five boys, and Richie was in a hurry to get the hell away from school. He had, perhaps, skipped his lunchtime detention to sneak for a cigarette with a few of the other smokers (Eddie and Bill had rolled their eyes, as per-usual, when he did such a thing). 

Stan had pushed a curl carefully behind his ear and stalled to glare at Richie. ‘You are not funny. Dick’.

Richie had pulled a face. ‘False, but continue’.

It was then that Stan had said the words that had Richie’s heart thumping and his stomach clenching painfully. ‘Eddie has a girlfriend. She asked him out in our Social Studies class…it’s that Susie Smith’.

Richie felt…he felt a bit empty, really. Empty like a dried up fucking lake, or something. ‘He said yes?’ His voice is low and forced. 

Stan had nodded, shoulders stiff and back-pack tight on his back, and peers at Richie. ‘I thought you would want to know…since…since what happened’.

Richie had glared and yanked his cigs from his pocket, along with his lighter. Around them, kids had started walking briskly across the grass outside of Derry High School to start their walk or drive home. Richie suddenly wanted to get far away from all of them, more so than before. Bill, Eddie and Mike would be there to meet them soon, and Richie did not want to fucking see Eddie Kaspbrak. 

For the first time ever, apparently.

‘You mean since he fucking kissed me three months ago when we were drunk at the Barrens, didn’t talk to me for a week after and then pretended the whole fucking thing didn’t happen? Yeah. Thanks, Stan’. Richie had turned to leave, but Stan grabbed him once again. 

‘You didn’t try to mention it to him, either-’ Stan countered calmly.

‘Are you fucking kidding me, Stan?’ Richie yelped, annoyed, and his voice had broken. Stan is the only one who knows of Richie’s fucked up feelings for short and sarcastic and perfect Eddie Kaspbrak, and the only one he told about the kiss Richie had wanted since he was twelve and the Summer of Shitness had happened. ‘I don’t give a fuck. He obviously can’t remember it fucking happened, or he’s ashamed. I don’t care. He’s got his girlfriend. Susie Smith? She even sounds fucking boring-’

Stan looked to his right and groaned. ‘Eddie and Mike are coming over, Rich-’

‘Good for fucking them. I’m going home’. With that, he had lit his cigarette and marched away, getting only a brief glance of the tall and handsome Mike, and the short, pale and curly haired Eddie.

That had been five minutes ago, and Richie was still bitterly horrified at the news of Eddie. Eddie was his best friend in the Losers Club (they called themselves that only rarely now), the one he always went to with problems and fun and who he picked up every day for school. They shared beds before the kiss happened, and told each other the stupidest fucking things and listened to the tapes that Richie made. Eddie was as fucked up as Richie, with his finger nails bitten to shit and his germ-phobia that was the product of his fucked up, fat mom. Richie was so entirely Eddie’s, and the boy didn’t even fucking know it.

Ever since that kiss that Eddie did or did not remember, Richie had fallen even further in love with the stupid fucking kid.

He walks quickly, not giving a shit if the others are confused by his abrupt departure. He lights his cigarette and smokes quickly, his unbuttoned back floral shirt billowing about his loose white undershirt. He thinks of that fucking kiss every day. The others had gone home, drunk, and Eddie had admitted he didn’t want to leave yet. He was a funny drunk, Richie knew, who told the truth and giggled loudly. Richie hadn't been able to stop staring at his flushed cheeks all night. 

Richie had called Eddie cute, and Eddie had kissed him. He had tasted of whiskey and lemonade and perfection. If it had been a peck, perhaps Richie could have blamed it on drunken affection. He himself had given Bill many sloppy kisses since they discovered the wonders of spirits when they were fifteen.

It hadn’t been a peck. It had been hot and warm and wet and Richie had kissed Eddie’s neck like a man starved and Eddie had fucked moaned. Except, Eddie had sprung away from Richie and gasped for breath, eyes wide and face pale and looking more horrified than Richie had ever seen him. He’d run away home, and on Monday he told the group he was grounded for staying out late (he was supposed to stay at Richie’s that night) and he had hardly spoken to Richie all week.

When he did, he acted as if nothing had ever happened. Richie told Stan, and Stan hadn’t seemed at all surprised.

He pushes these thoughts angrily from his mind as he wanders into his house, slamming the door shut behind him with a swift kick on his boot. He looks up and falters, because his dark haired and scowling father is staring at him from the foot of the staircase, his hand still on the banister.

‘What the hell have I told you about doing that, Rich?’

Richie scowls and kicks off his boots, shrugging and looking at his dad from beneath his glasses. ‘Doing what?’ He’s being difficult, but he doesn’t give a shit. He’s in a bad mood and he’s fucked off, and when the hell do his parents hold off on being dicks to him when they’re in such moods?

‘Kicking the fucking door-’

Richie rolls his eyes and dumps his boots among the other shoes at the door, before starting for the staircase and attempting to shove past his dad. ‘That I shouldn’t do it. Noted. Can I get past?’

His dad hisses out a breath from between clenched teeth and stares down at his son, a foul look on his face. 

Richie blinks. ‘…That a yes or a no…or…?’

Wentworth Tozier rolls his eyes and steps to the side. ‘You’re a fucking weirdo, son-’

Richie steps up two steps and turns to his father, a tight smile adorning his pale face. Pushing his shaggy, curly hair back from his face, he shrugs and says, ‘Well, with kind words like that it’s a fucking wonder mom doesn’t want to spend any time in this house, pops-’

It is then that his dad hits him. The words die in Richie’s throat as his dad grunts out an annoyed sound, ascends one step until he is just one below Richie, and hurtles his clenched fist toward his son’s face. Richie gasps and falls back onto his butt, hand flying to his bloody and aching nose and watching in shock as his dad calls him a fucking ‘weirdo’ and walks away, shaking his fist.

He goes into the living room, and within a few seconds Richie hears the TV turn on.

He wants to cry. He wants to scream. He wants to do what he normally does when his parents do something fucked up, and go to Eddie’s window and knock on it until the boy answers and lets Richie sit in there until the ache of his parent’s neglects goes away. Eddie gets it. His own mom loves him in the most fucked up kind of way. 

But he can’t. Because Eddie isn’t his. Because Eddie has someone more important in his life than Richie now. Susie fucking Smith. Who the fuck even was she? Would she make Eddie laugh like Richie could? Would she make his cheeks flush like Richie could? Would she make him shout in rage, in happiness? Would she be able to decipher exactly what he was thinking, just from the flicker in his gaze or the twitch of his lip?

Fuck.

He goes to his room, grabs a stray shirt and presses it to his bloody face. Dumping his bag on his shit strewn floor, he stumbles onto his bed, where his booted feet practically hang off the end, and stares up at the ceiling with glasses askew and slightly bent. Shit. He'd have to tape them again.

‘Fuckin’ asshole,’ Richie grumbles, and his voice is low like he has a cold. He wants to cry, but he doesn't.

He doesn’t know why he doesn’t feel surprised. His dad, or mom, had never hit him before. They’d called him names and proclaimed that he was an utter waste of space, but never had they laid a hand on him. Richie felt a twinge of worry at that. Maybe this would start to become a new fucked up tradition in their house.

He wonders if his mom would have done anything, had she been home. Had she not been out fucking some random.

He wants one of the Losers. He wants Mike, because Mike can make a mean hot chocolate and always knows a good book to read. He wants Bill, because Bill is a leader and knows how to take direction. He wants Stan, because Stan knows why Richie’s heart aches every time Eddie turns to him with a wry smile or, before the kiss, would allow Richie to sling his arm around his smaller shoulders. He wants Bev and Ben, two people he can so scarcely remember but misses with all his heart. He wants Eddie, because he is so hopelessly in love with the fucking idiot.

But, apparently, Richie Tozier very scarcely gets what he wants in life.

The utter unfairness of it all made him want to scream.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stuff is going somewhere! I've posted this on my tumblr - areyoureddiekids - as well. I hope you enjoy!

The next day is school, and school means facing everyone with his bruised and slightly swollen nose. He’d stormed downstairs late last night and grabbed a bag of peas, but his dad had already crawled to bed with a trail of beer cans in his wake. Richie had kind of wanted to cry then, but he didn’t. He went back to his messy room, undressed down to his boxers, and pressed that bag of peas to his throbbing nose and listened to Oasis.

He hardly gets any looks as he wanders into school – most people are used to him having some dumb injury, usually the product of a dare from Eddie or Stan. He normally waited at the end of Eddie’s road for him, but that morning he had hurried past with his head hung low and his curls shadowing his face.

He doesn’t know if Eddie had been there. He probably went to meet his fucking girlfriend.

Wow. Richie really needed to tone down the bitterness.

He has Chem without any of the Losers that morning. He’s actually pretty good at it, and sits next to another one of the back-alley smokers named Nick. He’s kind of stupid, but funny, so Richie and he get along. After that, though, is Gym.

Gym involves all the Losers.

They’re lucky they have Mike and Bill with them, because Mike is athletic and tall and Bill is strong and trying to get onto the Football team. That day, though, they’re playing basketball and Richie cannot be fucked – at all.

‘There he is!’ Eddie proclaims as Richie wanders into the locker room, already whizzing up some one-liners he can pull to draw the attention away from his bruised nose. Eddie’s eyes visibly roll as Richie pushes past the changing boys. He sometimes wonders if he’s actually gay, because no other guy does it for him like Eddie does. ‘For fucks sake, Richie, what happened to your nose?’

Eddie is sitting on the bench between lockers as the others change around him. He was already decked out in his white gym shirt and too-short shorts (Richie swears he gets them special ordered), and his hair (now longer than when they were kids, despite his fat mom’s moans) curled around his ears.

He leaves Richie breathless, and Richie fucking hates it.

He shrugs and dumps his gym bag onto the bench as Bill pears at him and pulls his shirt over his head. Stan is tucking his own shirt in and pressing out the wrinkles. Mike is tying up his shoelaces, a concerned expression on his face as he looks up at Richie. ‘Wind blew the door back into my face. I know – I’m an idiot’.

Eddie’s teasing smile twitches into something else, and Richie knows he knows. Eddie always fucking knows.

‘Y-you are,’ Bill confirms, grinning. ‘You m-missed playing D-Doom last night, dude. Your l-l-loss’.

Richie shrugs, throwing Stan a sideways glance as he kicks off his Docs and pulls his Gym clothes from his bag. Stan, as the others aren’t looking at him, stands with his arms stiffly crossed and minutely mimics throwing up. ‘Felt sick,’ Richie lies and shrugs. Eddie’s looking at him again. ‘Guess I saw your mom or something, Ed’s’.

‘Eat dick, douchebag,’ Eddie replies, climbing to his feet. He’s grown, but he’s still a foot shorter than Richie.

‘Do you guys have to start this early in the morning?’ Mike moans. At that moment, Mr Andrew’s (the douchebag Gym coach who totally did not get Richie’s brilliant sense of humour) wanders in with a clipboard and a sour look on his face.

‘Shit, Tozier, hurry up, will you?’ he snaps, moustache twitching. Richie had told the man many a time that he looked like a kiddie-fucker with that thing, but all it got him was a multiple detentions. He was only trying to help. What teacher wanted to look like they fucked kids?

The others follow the herd out but Eddie assures them he’ll wait for Richie, to which Richie gives Stan a startled look but the Jewish boy merely smirks and follows Bill out. And now, fuck, Richie is going to have to fucking ask about Eddie’s fucking girlfriend, because it’s polite, or whatever-

‘You’re acting off as fuck today,’ Eddie points out pleasantly, crossing his legs and giving Richie a few sideways glances as the taller boy wrenches off his knitted jumper and pulls on his white gym one.

‘Am I?’ Richie counters, plopping onto the bench and undoing the buttons of his jeans. He’s surprised Eddie is even talking to him whilst he’s changing; that had been one of the things that changed since The Kiss. The sleepovers with just the two of them stopped. Changing in the locker room anywhere near each other, or on their own, stopped. 

He glances at Eddie and Eddie glares at him, brown eyes narrowed. ‘You’re always so fucking difficult when you’re in a shit mood’.

Richie pauses before answering, ‘Am I?’

Eddie shoots to his feet and points at Richie’s still throbbing nose, a frown on his face and dark eyebrows drawn together. ‘What the fuck happened? You can tell me this shit, Rich. We always tell each other that shit’.

Shit meaning shitty parents, of course.

Richie sighs and kicks off his jeans and pulls on his Gym shorts. He doesn’t miss the way Eddie looks pointedly away, and rolls his eyes. Pushing his curly hair back from his face, he shrugs. ‘You know what happened, just like I know the reason you’ve got a fucking girlfriend is because you don’t want your mum to know you’re gay as shit’.

There’s a brief silence. Even Richie can’t quite believe he’s said it.

‘F-fuck off, Richie,’ Eddie stammers out, cheeks red and fists clenched at his sides. Richie finishes putting his trainers on and throws Eddie a bored look. ‘Susie is nice-’

‘Susie is the beard of all fucking beards, Ed’s’.

Eddie splutters. ‘I don’t know what you’re-’

Richie shoots to his feet, a frown on his face and his glasses falling rapidly down his nose. He pushes them up distractedly, wincing when they brush against a particularly sore part of his injury. ‘You don’t? You really don’t remember, huh?’

He’s standing in front of Eddie now, and Eddie is glaring at him like he’s the worst thing in the world. ‘I get you’re not in a great state of mind because your mom or your dad-’

‘Dad,’ corrects Richie. ‘It was my dad who punched me in the face, Ed’s’.

Eddie shakes his head, cheeks like red apples and lips wet from where he’s been licking them. ‘Don’t call me that-’

Richie surges forward, long fingers grabbing Eddie’s waist and yanking Eddie to him. Eddie gasps and growls and pushes, but he is quickly silenced by Richie’s head ducking and his lips planting themselves clumsily on the corner of Richie’s mouth. It’s chaste and quick and hardly a kiss at all, but Richie pulls himself away and stares down at Eddie, who is so red in the face and breathing so hard that it’s a wonder he hasn’t passed out.

Richie feels that emptiness in him fill a little.

‘You can’t do that,’ Eddie breathes out angrily, reaching up to bunch his fists in Richie’s Gym shirt. Richie breathes heavily at that, because the action has Eddie pressing closer to him. ‘You can’t fucking do that, Richie. I can’t…I don’t want…’ He’s staring at Richie, a frown on his face and eyes that dark brown and-

And then he’s kissing Richie again. He’s reaching up to cup Richie’s sharp jaw and curl his fingers against Richie’s prominent cheekbones, and his mouth is hard and fast against Richie’s and so, so wonderful. His pushing his tongue into Richie’s mouth, and Richie nearly wants to ask Eddie: what about germs, dude? 

Suddenly, Richie is fucking ravenous for every inch of Eddie Kaspbrak.

‘You don’t want this, huh?’ Richie pants, pulling away from Eddie’s mouth and kissing his cheeks; his nose. ‘Don’t want me?’

‘It’s not that fucking easy, Rich,’ snaps Eddie, glaring furiously at him, cheeks swollen and eyes dark. He looks pissed and flustered at the same time, and Richie is pretty sure he’s in love with the sight.

And Richie knows, of course he fucking knows it’s not easy, so he tells him that. But then he’s kissing Eddie again, and his pale hands find the skin beneath Eddie’s white shirt and Eddie is making those fucking noises like before, and Richie is dipping his head to kiss Eddie’s neck and he’s pressing him up against the locker and Eddie is holding Richie’s head in place-

‘I love you so fuckin’ much, Ed’s,’ Richie pants against his neck and Eddie freezes, fingers digging almost painfully into Richie’s scalp. Slowly, Richie pulls away and stares Eddie in the eye, their noses nearly touching.

He wants to fucking cry, because suddenly there’s a wetness around Eddie’s large brown eyes that wasn’t there before. Eddie nods. ‘Fuck…fuck, Rich. Same, but…we can’t. Not here. Not in fucking Derry. It was so hard to stay awya from you before, to try and go back to normal-’

Richie nods and, fuck, he didn’t think this would happen today. He feels fucking elated. ‘Let’s skip. Let’s go to the Quarry,’ he announces. ‘Please, Eddie?’

Eddie looks like he might say no, because Eddie Kaspbrak never skipped class, but suddenly he’s nodding and Richie is grinning. ‘Shit. Okay. Change quickly, alright?’

They do, and before they leave, Eddie is saying very quietly, ‘I can’t break up with Susie, Richie. My Ma…she was gonna guess sooner or later. I need her’.

Richie doesn’t say anything. He’s not sure he has to.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Swearing. Sexual implications. Very light smut. Child abuse. They’re seventeen. Angsty afffff.   
> Follow my tumblr - areyoureddiekids!

The walk to the Quarry is, if Richie must choose just any word for it, fucking awkward.

Okay, that was two words.

There’s never really been an awkwardness between himself and Eddie. Heck, there’s never really been an awkwardness between him and anyone. Even the first time he met Ben, when the kid was all bloodied up because of Bowers (what the fuck happened to him, again?) Richie still found a way to crack a joke and ease the situation.

Glad I got to meet you before you died.

He somehow wishes he had the girl, Bev, with him through all of this shit. Because realising he had a crush on Eddie (the night of the kiss, in fact, and after than he realised, oh fuck, I kinda love this little fucker) would have been bearable had he had Bev, not fucking Stan.

He doesn’t know why. He can’t really remember her, other than freckles and red hair and a bravery they all only wished they could have.

Portland. She went to Portland.

He and Eddie ducked out of the school quickly (Richie knows the best route to take when skipping class) and hurried along the side roads of Derry, hands brushing and hearts hammering. Richie wants to kiss Eddie again, because kissing Eddie sober was a billion times better than kissing him when he was drunk.

They have today. They have today to figure it out.

The Quarry hasn’t changed much since they were kids, Richie decides. It’s still earthy and airy so entirely theirs. He remembers jumping into the water with all his friends, and spitting loogies during the summer time. They still sometimes came here, the remaining lot of them, but the summer evenings in which they did were after they’d all finished their shifts at corner shops and the arcade, and they’d crack open beers of whatever Richie had stolen from his Ma.

It’s April, and the air isn’t half cold, so Richie kicks off his boots and pulls off his socks as Eddie stands behind him, decked out in pristine chucks, red shorts and a yellow jumper that slips off his shoulder.

Rich looks over his shoulder as he rolls his jeans up above his ankles, eyes scanning the shifting and serious looking Eddie. ‘You’re so fucking pretty, Ed’s,’ he scoffs, turning away from the curly haired boy.

There’s a moment of silence before Eddie splutters out, ‘Don’t fucking call me Ed’s’.

Richie merely shrugs. ‘You gonna sit?’ He doesn’t turn around, but instead stares out at the water below. There are birds swaying against the blue waters. Hesitantly, he reaches up and pokes his nose. It hurt a little less. At least his dad hadn’t broken it. 

He hears Eddie shift. ‘It’s dirty’.

‘You’ve never cared before’.

‘I know, but…’ He trails off, but Richie knows what. He knows that Eddie’s dirt and germ phobia gets far worse when he’s stressed, just like Stan’s obvious OCD goes fucking haywire when there’s a test coming up. Bill was always good at calming him down, though. Richie finishes sorting his jeans and turns, long legs splayed out and feet hanging off the edge of the cliff. ‘C’mon, Eddie,’ he says softly, almost too softly for it to have possibly come from his Trashmouth.

Eddie complies, mouth pressed into a hard line and chucks scuffing against the dry dirt. He sits carefully next to Richie after kicking some stones aside, legs drawn up and arms hooked around his knees. ‘Now that we’ve broken a fuck ton of school rules, what’s the big plan now, Richie?’

Richie doesn’t really know. He just wants answers, really. He pushes his glasses up his nose (fucking ow) and peers round at Eddie, who stares blankly back at him. Richie has to cough out a laugh at that. ‘You’re so fucking grumpy. What the fuck. Stop looking at me like that, or I might have to ravage you again, Kaspbrak’. Eddie flushes, glares, and Richie pauses. ‘I meant what I said, y’know’.

I love you so fuckin’ much, Ed’s.

The younger of the two stares at Richie in wide eyed surprise, mouth open and jaw twitching. ‘I know,’ he nods and turns to look out at the water, eyebrows drawn together. ‘I’m sorry. I started this. I’m…sick. Fucking fag-’

‘What the fuck!’ Richie yelps, turning to Eddie fully now, his feet scraping against the dirt floor. ‘Eddie, what the shit, don’t say stuff like that, dude! I mean, shit, I’m a massive fag for you, if that’s the case-’

Eddie shakes his head, and Richie is horrified to see tears coming. Shit. Eddie never cries properly. He freaks out and his breathing gets bad (even though it’s water in that inhaler) and his eyes water, but he never cries. ‘Do you know what my mom will do if she ever finds out, Rich? She’ll send me to a fucking shrink, or put me on those pills that turn people straight. Don’t like at me like that, I know they fucking don’t!’

Richie is at a loss for words and he feels like a bit of an asshole, really. He never really considered that Eddie had comes to terms with that kiss, nor that he had thought the whole thing through and known it was dangerous. Of course, Mrs Kaspbrak would throw a fit, but the words Eddie was saying made Richie think that maybe… ‘Has she said all of this to you?’ Richie murmurs, peering at Eddie as tears run down his cheeks.

Eddie nods and sniffs, drawing up his sleeve to his face and wiping. ‘She heard what the kids at school were calling me in Middle School. Girly boy and all that shit. She told me that if I ever turned out like that, she’d never forgive herself or me. She says people like that are sick’. Eddie turns to him, a hot glare on his face. ‘Not all of us can not give a shit what people think, Richie. I’ve liked you since we were freaking eleven, you know that? Took you up until that stupid fucking kiss down at the Barrens to realise, you blind idiot-’

Great. Now he feels like even more of an asshole. ‘Eddie, I had no clue, I didn’t-’ He’s desperate and sorry. He just…just assumed Eddie was being a dick, or a pussy, or both.

‘So that girl, Susie, asked me out and I said yes. She’s kinda pretty. Kinda nice. The kind of girl my Ma would like’. Eddie shakes his head and draws his knees closer to his chest. ‘I’d just gotten over the fact that I fucking kissed you, which was fucking stupid, and that we’d started acting normal again. Then you had to do that today!’ He’s sobbing now, and Richie is staring in utter bewilderment as Eddie’s face crumples and his hands fly to eyes, attempting to hide the hot and heavy tears from Richie’s gaze.

‘Eddie. Shit. Please stop crying?’ Richie reaches for him, large hands swooping around Eddie’s shoulders and drawing him close to his chest. Eddie is fucking shaking. He’s sobbing and heaving and Richie doesn’t know what to do until Eddie is angling his face upward, gaze desperate and eyes searching.

Eddie kisses him first this time, and Richie finds that he might start crying himself.

He can taste the warmth of Eddie’s tears; their saltiness. He grips Eddie tightly to him, and in return Eddie grasps at Richie’s face and angles his body so that Richie is all but wrapped around him. He moves and Richie moves with him, pulling Eddie until he’s sitting across Richie with his bare knees digging into the sharp rocks and dry dirt.

‘It’s not fucking fair,’ Eddie breathes, gazing down at Richie as Richie settles onto his back, his thick and dark hair catching in the dirt below him. Eddie is blocking out the morning sunlight, his brown curly hair, a shade lighter than Richie’s, falling about his ears. His eyelashes are wet with tears, and his impossibly wide and dark brown eyes are scanning every inch of Richie’s pale and freckled face. ‘Why does it have to be wrong?’

Richie shrugs and holds Eddie’s waist. He still can’t quite believe this is even happening. ‘It’s not. That’s the problem’.

He kisses Eddie, and it’s warm and hard and fast, like they’re making up for lost time. They’re seventeen, though, and so fucking tired of everything in this town being so fucked up. This town, who would peer at them and call them wrong if they ever knew of the two boy’s feelings for one another, feelings that had only just come to light. Richie bitterly thinks that the town should fucking bow at their feet, because somehow (Richie can’t remember how, but the memory grates on his nerves and has him waking up in a cold sweat sometimes) he and the Losers had saved this fucking town.

Eddie pulls away and kisses Richie’s cheeks, his breathing still shallow and his hands pressed against Richie’s chest. ‘I’ll tell her,’ he promises Richie, kissing him on the lips in-between words. ‘But not yet. Can we have time, like this, until everyone finds out?’

Richie shifts and pushes himself against Eddie, desperate to feel more of that hardness against his thigh, and the boy on top of him stutters and goes a deeper shade of red than Richie knew possible. ‘You gonna keep the boring beard, Ed’s?’

Eddie stares down at Richie with sad, sad eyes. ‘It’ll make things easier,’ he murmurs, drawing a hand away from Richie’s chest to push it through his hair. Stopping, he pulls Richie to him and kisses him soundly, pushing his chest against Richie’s until they’re both upright, and Eddie is moving slowly in his lap. Eddie is hard, and Richie is in fucking bliss.

Richie breathes in deeply though his nose and chuckles. The pain in his nose doesn’t matter anymore, because Eddie’s hot breath is all over his face, and his hands are grasping at Richie’s shoulders as he moves. ‘Holy fucking shit that’s hot, Ed’s’.

Eddie laughs then. It sounds wet and sad, but it’s a laugh all the same. ‘Don’t be fucking crude,’ he shoots back, but gasps when Richie tightens his hold on his waist (how is Eddie so much fucking smaller than him?) and pushes him harder against him.

It’s a decision made. Richie doesn’t fucking care in that moment how sad or angry it makes him that he’ll have to watch Eddie with fucking Boring Susie the Beard for however long, nor how fucked up the whole thing is. All he cares about is that Eddie loves him too, even if he can’t say it, and how other fucking worldly it feels to have Eddie pressed against him, making those musical fucking sounds as he buries his face into Richie’s shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

Richie feels like he’s in one of those shitty movies where the guy finally gets the girl.

It’s a pretty fucked up twist on it though, he guesses. Because he doesn’t have Eddie. Fucking Susie the Boring has Eddie. Richie has stolen kisses and the knowledge that, finally, Eddie Kaspbrak feels the same way about Richie that Richie feels about him.

It doesn’t make it hurt any less, though.

The others don’t know. The others can’t know. Stan had cornered Richie the first day back at school after he and Eddie both ditched, and demanded to know what happened, to which Richie had told him to fuck off and lighten the fuck up. He told Stan that they had ditched and gone to the Quarry and hung out a little. He told Stan it fucking sucked that Eddie had a girlfriend, but that he would get over it.

He didn’t need Stan telling him what a terrible idea this was.

It’s three days later that he really sees Eddie and Susie interact. Richie had made a point of steering clear when he saw the two of them talking after class, or making some oh-so Richie comment when Eddie mentioned Susie, or Mike asked about her. Eddie’s never been in a relationship before, and although Richie knows (for a fucking fact, thank you very much) that Eddie doesn’t feel for the girl, he still feels his fists clench and teeth grind when Eddie brings the blonde haired and brown eyed Susie over to their lunch table that day.

‘Is it alright if Susie sits with us today, guys?’

Eddie looks at the others with pink cheeks and stern eyes. Bill, immediately, nods and makes room on the table, moving up a seat to sit closer to Stan. Susie smiles gratefully and thanks them as she takes her place at the table and Eddie practically rugby tackles her out of the way as she attempts to sit next to Richie.

Richie was sure he wasn’t letting his entire distaste of the situation show on his face, but maybe he had.

So, Eddie sits next to Richie and Susie sits next to Bill, and then they’re all talking and laughing and asking Susie why the hell she was doing with Eddie. All in jest, of course.

Thing is, Susie is nice. Richie watches closely as she talks across the table to Stan (they’re in some fucking bird club together, apparently) and she’s sweet and kind and cracks a few light jokes. She’s nervous, but she tries, and it’s obvious she actually quite likes Eddie.

Still, this doesn’t stop Richie from reaching down with his free hand (his other is holding a butter and ham sandwich he’d made hastily that morning) and touching Eddie’s knee lightly. Eddie jerks and breathes through his nose, eyes flicking away from the conversation happening across the table, his fingers flexing from where they stick out the end of his maroon jumper sleeves.

As Bill stutters out a half-hearted insult to Stan as the other boy roll his eyes and Susie giggles, Eddie turns every-so-slightly to look at Richie with calm eyes and a half quirked up lip. Dropping his hand beneath the table, he touches Richie’s hand and it is warm and soft.

Their eyes meet for a moment, and Richie feels like the world stops.

Then Eddie straightens up and pulls his hand away, and Richie retracts his own and looks away from Eddie. He glances around the cafeteria briefly to check if anyone has seen, but his eyes stop solidly when he catches Stan’s curious gaze.

Richie sticks out his tongue and cocks a brow. ‘You okay there, Stan the Man?’

Stan merely nods and looks away, an untrusting look on his face that wasn’t untypical to find directed from him to Richie

He watches Susie closely after that, as he nibbles at his ham sandwich (a weird enough thing – Richie did not nibble). He watches the way she keeps her form half-turned toward Eddie, and how eventually her hand falls upon his on the table. He watches her brown eyes flicker to him every so often, and Richie watches how Eddie’s cheeks flush with every bit of attention she gives him. Richie isn’t sure whether it’s because he’s genuinely flustered by the attention, or because he knows Richie is watching him closely.

It sucks, because Richie can tell this girl actually kind of likes Eddie. He wants to growl and scowl and tell that she will never know and love Eddie like Richie does, but where’s the fairness in that?

Plus, that would result in everyone finding out he and Eddie were total fucking flamers.

Susie leaves lunch five minutes early to join her group of friends (all of them had been sitting at a neighbouring table and not-so subtly eyeing their friend and Eddie) and Richie stays quiet as the others announce their approval of sweet little Susie.

Richie stays uncharacteristically quiet. So quiet that Stan stares at him from across the table. ‘Yeah,’ Richie deadpans. ‘She’s nice’.

Eddie throws him a bland look.

When the bell sounds to indicate that classes will begin soon, Richie all but jumps from the table and throws Eddie a look, followed by a mutter of, ‘Bathroom’. The smaller boy winces and aims an annoyed look at Richie, as Richie bumps his shoulder on the way out of the cafeteria and tells the others he’ll see them after school.

He doesn’t know why he’s pissed at Eddie, to be honest. He has no fucking reason to be. Eddie is doing what Richie knows is the most logical, even the it’s shit as anything. Whilst Richie has spent months pining after Eddie and worrying about the freakin’ homophobia of Derry, Eddie had spent years doing the same. He finally, finally, finally had a way to get his Ma off his back, and Richie was jealous. Fucking jealous.

He feels like a fucking pussy.

He locks himself away in the toilet cubicle, as other High Schoolers stub out their cigarettes and start for their afternoon classes. He feels dumb and stupid, because it’s not like Eddie fucking likes Susie, The Annoyingly Nice Girl. He’s with her to protect himself, protect his feelings for Richie. Because whilst Richie’s parents are shit parents and lazy and fucking abusive (his mom never asked why his nose was bruised, and his dad never mentioned the punch), Eddie’s Ma would rip him a new one if she knew her son was gay.

Richie knows this.

He does.

Both he and Eddie are so aware that they have to look after each other in this fucked up town.

The door swings open and closed and tired voice calls out, ‘Richie?’ Richie unlatches the lavatory door and peeks through the gap as he pushes his glasses up and throws Eddie a playful grin and beckons him forward, to which the latter rolls his eyes and winkles his nose. ‘I’m not fucking going in there with you. We don’t have long until we’re super late to class’.

‘Oh, c’mon, Ed’s’.

‘It’s gross-’

‘Edward-’

Eddie actually stalls and lets a surprised laugh escape his lips. ‘Yes, Richard?’

‘Just get in the fucking cubicle. I didn’t like that Susie kissing you and now I gotta ravage you to get the image out of my mind. Is that alright?’ Richie hums out, eyebrow cocked and head still poking through the gap in the door. Eddie flushes and stutters and grumbles as he hoists up his back-pack and barges past Richie’s tall form and into the cubicle. He stands stock still between Richie and the toilet, his cheeks pink and his arms crossed.

With the corners of his mouth down-turned, he huffs out a breath. ‘This is fucking disgusting’.

‘You sure know how to make me all hot and bothered, Ed’s. Where did you learn such bedroom talk? Your mom? I-’ It takes only Eddie rolling his eyes and grabbing at Richie’s white undershirt and pressing his mouth again Richie’s for the Trashmouth to shut up, and Richie nearly starts laughing when he feels Eddie’s mouth curve against his own.

‘This really is a good way to get you to shut the fuck up,’ Eddie hums against Richie’s mouth.

Richie’s hands drops to Eddie’s waist as he pulls him closer, his glasses reflecting Eddie’s large brown eyes back to him. ‘Er, yeah. Maybe you should do it more often to get me to stop talk-’

Eddie hisses out another annoyed breath and does just that. His lips are soft and oddly skilled against Richie’s, because for some reason Richie never really expected Eddie to be good at kissing. He’s lucky, he guesses. ‘I hated seeing you with her,’ Richie admits with a soft breath, pulling his mouth away from Eddie’s to press his curly haired forehead against Eddie’s neat parting. ‘It was fucking shit, dude’.

Eddie grimaces and sighs. ‘Yeah. I know. Felt fucking shit. But she’s…there are worse girls to use’. He winces and pulls away from Richie to drop his forehead on the taller boy’s chest. Richie straightens up and wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist, wondering how he went so long without doing things like this. ‘Shit. That sounded mean’.

Richie shrugs. ‘Sounded honest. Bet it feels fucking good to be honest about this shit now, huh-?’

‘Eddie? Richie?’

They both stall and pull away slowly to stare down at each other, both pairs of brown eyes wide and blank. Eddie acts first and moves away from Richie, his white sneakers squeaking against the flooring. He swears quietly and looks at Richie with a look that says, ‘what the FUCK do we do?’

Richie breathes in deeply and opens his mouth, before clamping it shut again. Then, after a long look at Eddie, he breathes in deeply and pats Eddie’s cheek, before unlatching the door and letting it swing open to reveal the deadpan face of-

‘Hey, Stan’.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> posted this to my tumblr, too - areyoureddiekids! thank you so much for the kudos and comments, guys. i have other reddie stuff on my page, so take a look! ur all lovely oxoxo

Stan looks fucking pissed.

Eddie shifts and falls over his words next to Richie, and as Richie adjusts his glasses and glances once to the boy who he wishes to fuck he could call his boyfriend, he almost cringes at how thoroughly kissed Eddie looks.

He looks back to Stan.

Yeah, he still looked pissed.

‘We were just, er-’

Stan cocks a brow and corrects the straps of his backpack. ‘Just making out in-between classes in the boys bathroom? The both of you are clichés. I hope you know that’.

Eddie lets out a stuttering breath from next to Richie, and Richie’s heart plummets. Shit. He never told Eddie that Stan knew how Richie felt. All Eddie could see right now was someone finding out one of his best kept secrets, and Richie knew Eddie well enough to know that this one fact was world ending for him.

‘No, shit. Ed’s’. He reaches for Eddie, his hand curling around the back of the younger boy’s neck as Eddie breathes deeply, Richie’s foot kicking at both their discarded backpacks as he moves around in the cubicle. Eddie turns to him, pink cheeked and wide eyed and on the verge of having a fucking asthma attack. ‘Shit – Stan knows, alright? He’s known since that kiss at the Barrens. He doesn’t fucking care, okay?’

His other hand lands on Eddie’s cheek as the teenager’s eyes snap from wide eyed, to narrowed and pissed off. ‘You did what, Tozier? You fuckin’ told him?’

Richie sighs and drops his hands from Eddie. ‘You left me with fuckin’ blue balls and I was upset! You expected me not to tell anyone, Kaspbrak?’

Eddie opens his mouth to snap another retort, but Stan cuts in before he can throw an insult Richie’s way. ‘You do realise you have a girlfriend, don’t you, Eddie?’ Eddie snaps his mouth shut and looks guiltily Stan’s way. Richie, slowly and with a solid glare on his face, does the same. Stan shakes his head and frowns. ‘I knew there was something going on between the two of you. You’ve been far too okay with Eddie having a girlfriend. Not like you at all’.

Richie huffs and glares. ‘Fuck off, Stanley’.

Eddie pipes up again, voice nervous and annoyed. ‘Can we not fucking do this here?’ Richie rolls his eyes. ‘I know it’s fucking shitty, alright, Stan? But you know my mom. You think she’s okay with the fact that she has a fucking faggy son?’ Richie grimaces and throws Eddie a sideways glance. He isn’t looking at Richie, though. He’s staring ahead at Stan, chest heaving and eyebrows drawn together. ‘I need Susie. It’s the only way I can actually be with this idiot-’

‘Gee, thanks, babe-’

‘Richie, will you shut up?!’ Eddie snaps, bumping his shoulder against the taller boys and throwing an angry glare up at him. Richie merely grins widely down at him.

Eddie flushes and mouths that he’s a dick.

‘It’s a shit thing to do,’ Stan reminds the two of them, looking between them with an odd twitch of his lips that could almost be a smile. Richie wants to fucking take a picture, because Stan smiling was a rare as fuck thing these days. ‘And dangerous. Especially if the two of you are gallivanting around the boy’s bathroom making out’.

‘We are not gallivanting-’

‘You can’t tell anyone,’ cuts in Eddie, stepping forward and out of the cubicle. He looks desperate and near wild, so Richie steps out after him, hand going to land on Eddie’s shoulder. ‘You’ve got to promise, Stan. My mom…she’ll do some fucked up shit if she finds out. And Richie’s dad-’

Stan shakes his head, curls flying over his forehead. He looks oddly calm; the pissed off expression having fallen away at Eddie’s words. ‘I won’t,’ he promises, and Richie grins at him. ‘I don’t fucking condone it, but I won’t say anything. Just…just be careful with Susie, okay? She seems nice, but if she finds out what you’re doing...Girls can do bad shit when they’re pissed’.

Richie gives an exaggerated shrug whilst Stan glares.

‘What? God, I was fucking joking’.

-

They sit in Richie’s bedroom after school. It’s still difficult understanding that he can now touch Eddie in any way the smaller boy wants. Richie, of course, is greedy with this newfound blessing, so he sprawls across his bed once they get to his and pulls Eddie into his arms.

It feels fucking great.

‘Where did you tell Susie you were going?’ Richie asks, and Eddie’s head moves up and down slowly on Richie chest with every breath Richie takes.

Eddie shuffles, kicking his leg between Richie’s longer ones. ‘Told her I was coming to yours. No point in lying about stuff like that, is there?’

Richie shrugs, hand curled around Eddie as he stroked the boy’s hair. ‘Guess not’. He swallows. ‘Stan won’t tell anyone, you know. Not even Bill’. They hadn’t said anything about it since they’d left the bathroom with Stan rolling his eyes at them and had gone their separate ways, all of them getting reprimanded for being late to their classes.

Eddie taps his fingers against Richie’s band shirt and nods. ‘Yeah. I know. Just…just feels fucking weird that someone knows after all this time. I think Bev kinda knew…back then. But I’ve never said the words out loud, you know?’

Richie smirks and stares at the ceiling. There’s a stain there from three years ago, when he and Bill had been eating spaghetti in his room and Richie had somehow flung some onto the ceiling in his fits of laughter. ‘Said what?’

Eddie opens his mouth, pauses, then says, ‘You’re a dick’. Richie remains silent, brow cocked and smirk still in place. ‘Said…said that I’m gay,’ Eddie breathes, and Richie ducks his head and plants a kiss against Eddie’s soft hair, his heart swelling with pride and his smile wide.

‘You’re so fucking gay for me,’ Richie coos teasingly, cackling when Eddie glares up at him.

‘You’re fucking gay for me, too, asshole,’ Eddie snaps, turning slightly so that he’s on his front, half lying across Richie with his chin planted on Richie’s chest.

‘I’m bi, actually,’ Richie points out lightly, blinking down at Eddie’s face.

‘I…oh, whatever. Dick’.

‘Very well put, Ed’s’.

Eddie huffs and kicks Richie’s shin. After settling back into Richie’s skinny and long arms, he speaks again. ‘I can’t keep this thing up with Susie forever. It fucking hurts having to kiss her, you know. Or even hang out with her. She’s not...you’.

Richie hums and nods. ‘I know’. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t want to push it.

‘I could end it’.

Richie nods once again. He can’t jump the gun. He can’t tell Eddie what to do. ‘You could’.

Eddie breathes in deeply. ‘We could tell the others. Only them, though. Not my mom…not yet’. Richie looks down at Eddie, eyes wide and smile twitching onto his face. ‘Yet,’ he stresses, big brown eyes hard as they stare into Richie’s softer ones. ‘I think it’d be nice to be ourselves in front of everyone, y’know?’

Richie huffs out a laugh and tightens his hold on Eddie. ‘You’re too fucking cute, Ed’s’.

‘Don’t fuckin’ call me Ed’s’. He barely breathes in before the next words come tumbling out of his mouth. ‘When I end it with Susie, will you be my boyfriend, then?’ Richie barely notices that Eddie had said ‘when’ and not ‘if’, because he’s too busy gawking down at Eddie. ‘Shut your fucking mouth, Tozier. I can smell what you had for lunch, wafting over to me’. Eddie grimaces and Richie huffs out a laugh.

He feels like a puddle of fucking rainbows and happiness. ‘Yeah, Eddie. I’ll be your fucking boyfriend’.

He doesn’t know how he got here. He doesn’t know how he got this lucky.

Eddie’s still staring up at him, wide eyes glassy and pink mouth pressed into a line. He nods and smiles. After a pause of the two eyeing each other with goofy smiles, he speaks again. ‘Where do you want to go after Derry?’

Richie shrugs and says, without really thinking, ‘I dunno. Wherever you want to go, I guess’. Eddie’s cheeks turn that wonderful shade of pink again and Richie smiles a slow, teasing smile. ‘You okay there, Ed’s-?’

Eddie’s Adam’s Apple jumps. ‘I-I love you’.

Richie shuts the fuck up.

Richie stares at Eddie. He stares for so long that his eyes start to water and his mouth starts to go dry. He stares until Eddie shifts and slaps him on the chest and tells him to stop fucking looking at him like that. ‘Sorry,’ Richie says, voice low and oddly serious. ‘I love you, too, Ed’s’.

Of course he does. He thinks he could live a thousand life times and still love Eddie Kaspbrak the way he does in this moment, with Eddie sprawled across him with feathery light hair and pale skin and sunlight filtering across his eyes and highlighting all the shades of brown.

Richie didn’t even know there could be so many shades of fucking brown. 

Eddie nods seriously, as if this is the most logical reply, before saying, ‘If your dad touches you again, you need to come and knock on my window, okay? Mom stays in the sitting room, most of the time. And I’ll do the same to you if my mom is driving me crazy. That’s…that’s okay, isn’t it?’

Richie pulls Eddie higher and kisses Eddie’s forehead like he’s the softest thing in the world (even though he fucking isn’t, because Richie knows full well that Eddie Kaspbrak is lethal) and replies, ‘Yeah, Ed’s. That’s okay’.

Eddie kisses him then, and his eyelashes brush against Richie’s cheeks. Richie kisses back with vigour and, somehow, wishes he could pour every bit of love he felt for Eddie into that kiss, just so Eddie knew. Instead, he curls a hand around Eddie’s head and buries it into his hair, and helps Eddie sit up and press himself against Richie.

And Richie so fucking sure something terrible must be coming, because this was too good for it to be his life.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bro wtf i’m so sorry guys this went for 0 to 100 real fucking fast.   
> warnings: Swearing. Sexual implications. Child abuse (severe violence). Homophobic slurs.

Richie is sitting outside of Eddie’s house on his bike with the others, and they’re all patiently waiting for the asthmatic boy to hurry the hell up. Bill had called them all, separately, to ask if they wanted to go to the Aladdin and watch some new action film.

Everyone, of course, had agreed.

It’s been a week since Eddie Kaspbrak told him he loved him, and Richie is trying this thing called patience. He is patiently waiting for Eddie to break up with Susie, because he knows it’s coming and he has to be there for Eddie when his mom asks why the hell he did that. When everyone asks.

Because, as Eddie had said, they were going to tell everyone soon.

And Richie can’t fucking wait.

He’s getting real, real fucking tired of having to treat Eddie like a best friend. He’s getting real fucking tired of not being able to kiss his hair and tug at his hands and call Eddie all the pet names in the world because, shit, he’s waited long enough to get to the point in which he can.

Then Eddie is slamming his front door and wrenching his bike off of the ground, and they can suddenly hear Mrs Kaspbrak shrieking from inside the house for her son. Bill sighs from next to Richie, muttering a low, ‘H-here we go’.

They’re pretty used to Eddie’s mom’s hysterics at this point, but Richie is suddenly nervous as shit, because there’s only one thing Eddie could have told her to make her go that insane at the moment.

Eddie’s wearing a pink polo shirt and black shorts, and he throws himself onto his bike and says roughly, already biking past them, ‘I’d get going if I were you guys. Especially you, Richie. She’s gone fuckin’ mad’.

And Richie gapes, long legs either side of his bike, and fumbles to bike after his somewhat boyfriend as the others scramble to follow, none of them fond of the idea of having Sonia Kaspbrak shouting after them.

They bike only around the corner, before Eddie is landing on the green where a hill slopes down to a few benches, and it’s kind of cold out today so none of the kids of Derry are out. Mike, Stan and Bill look at each other in confusion as Richie throws his bike to ground next to Eddie’s and hurries after the boy, his glasses falling down his face.

‘Eddie!’

Eddie turns, cheeks pink and eyes wild. Richie is really fucking worried he might cry as the others dump their bikes in the pile (Stan keeps his propped up, of course), but then suddenly a manic, relieved grin is spreading across Eddie’s face and he is laughing.

‘What the fuck?’ murmurs Stan.

‘I have no idea,’ replies Mike.

But then Richie is pushing up his glasses and a smile is twitching at his face, because Eddie looks free. ‘I fucking did it, Richie,’ he breathes, giggling and running a hand through his once neat hair. ‘I fucking told her. She looked horrified. It was great’.

And Richie knows. Eddie told his mom about them. Eddie told his mom he was gay.

‘Told y-you mom w-what, Eddie?’ Bill asks, stepping forward to stand beside Richie. Richie looks at him, catches Stan’s eyes, and fights a small smile when Stan gives a small eye-roll and a nod. ‘She didn’t s-s-sound happy’.

Eddie scoffs. ‘She wouldn’t do, I guess. I told her that I broke up with Susie, and that Richie and I are together now, and that I am very, very gay’.

Richie stiffens and whirls round to stare at Eddie because, shit, he didn’t think his Ed’s would blurt it out like that. Eddie stares at him, grin wide, and Richie wants to pepper kisses all over his face, because Eddie is free and saying whatever the fuck he wants and Richie is totally living for it.

Slowly, he turns to look at the other three.

Bill is gaping, Mike is pulling a half-impressed look, and Stan is staring at the tree behind Eddie with a half-bored expression.

‘O-oh,’ stutters Bill, cheeks pink as he blinks hard. ‘Well, I-I…shit, I’m actually n-n-not that surprised’.

‘No, right?’ Mike mutters, crossing his arms and turning to Bill.

Stan just hums in agreement and rolls his eyes again.

But Richie is too busy staring at Eddie. ‘You broke up with Susie?’ Eddie nods, slowly, and Richie is grinning like the sun. ‘Fuck yeah, Ed’s!’ Richie whoops, and then his long legs are taking him to Eddie and Eddie is rolling his eyes as Richie gathers him in his arms and plants a solid kiss against Eddie’s cheek.

Eddie is blushing and looking over at the others, but Mike is merely grinning from ear to ear as Bill stares at the sight with pink cheeks and says, ‘In r-retrospect, it k-kinda feels like you guys have been d-dating for years’.

Stan scoffs. ‘Because they have, even if the idiots didn’t realise it’.

‘You’re so utterly rude, Stanley,’ Richie quips, leaning away from Eddie but keeping his arm thrown over the shorter boy shoulders. ‘So, we good?’

‘We good,’ Mike grins. ‘Are we seeing this film, or what?’

‘Patience is a virtue, Mike. Jesus’. But Richie grins down at Eddie all the same as the others move to grab their bikes, and with their back turns he plants a peck on Eddie lips and tells him, ‘I’m proud of you, Ed’s. Really’.

Eddie snorts. ‘Don’t be a fucking sap, Tozier’.

-

The film is dumb as fuck, but Richie can’t help but enjoy the way he makes Eddie snort every time he leans over to point out another dumb part of said film. The others ignore them, as they usually do, and Richie thinks that he’s never really been this fucking content in his life.

He’s sure that’s why he goes home after kissing Eddie around the corner from his house, out in the open, with the intent of telling his parents about his boyfriend.

(He tells Eddie to call him when he gets home, and Eddie says he will after he speaks with his mom. She won’t hurt him, Eddie assures Richie. His mom loves him, she just won’t understand why he’s doing this to him).

His dad is in the kitchen when he gets home.

He doesn’t look a lot like his dad, he knows. He looks like his mom, with his pale skin, red lips and dark hair, he has that softness that his mom used to have. His height and eyes, though, he gets from his father.

He usually storms upstairs whenever he comes home, so even his dad looks half-surprised when Richie meanders into the kitchen. His pop’s is sitting at the rickety kitchen table, a beer in hand as he stares out into their overgrown garden. His moustache twitches as he considers his son, his eyes already half hazy. He’s not drunk, Richie knows. Just tipsy.

‘What do you want?’

Richie wants to snap that he hasn’t wanted anything from his father in years, but refrains. Instead, he steps onto the laminate flooring in his Docs, and breathes in deeply through his nose. He thinks of Eddie, who told his ma about them without fear and without trepidation, and Richie knows he’d be a dick to not do the same.

If he does this, they’re free.

If he does this, all they will have to worry about is the dick kids around Derry taking the piss, but that they can handle.

‘Dad,’ he says, fists clenched. ‘I have a boyfriend’. He doesn’t say he’s bisexual, because his dad is a small-town idiot and Richie doesn’t think he’d understand the very simple intricacies of what a bisexual is.

His dad pauses in drinking his beer and peers at his son over the top of his can, and Richie breathes in lowly when he sees dark eyes so like his darken that little bit more. And, he thinks, fuck. ‘No, you fucking don’t,’ Went Tozier snaps, slamming his drink onto his table. ‘No, you fucking don’t, son’.

Richie steps back, but keeps his chin held high and his eyes narrowed. Slowly, he clenches his fists some more. He knows, now, that his dad won’t hesitate in hurting him. ‘Yes, I do. I have done for a few weeks. I’m telling you now because people are gonna start talking around town, and-’

‘My son ain’t a fucking fag, Rich,’ his dad growls, and suddenly his clambering to his feet and he’s so much fucking taller than Richie.

So much bigger.

But he’s Richie Trashmouth, so he doesn’t back the fuck down. ‘I am actually,’ he grits out, pushing his chest out and staring his dad down. ‘Your son is a big old fag, pops. And proud’.

‘Who? What little shit have you been fucking around with? That Jewish kid, because I swear to God-’ He doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t let Richie speak either. ‘You’re a fucking fuck up. Disappointment after disappointment. Your fucking mother is going to-’

‘I don’t give a fuck,’ Richie snaps, and then his dad punches him.

It’s different than last time, because Richie knows that even after the first punch, it isn’t going to be the last. His dad grabs him by the shoulder as Richie sputters and blinks away the pain, and his glasses fall to the floor with a clatter. His dad holds him in place, and then suddenly there’s a blinding, spreading pain in his stomach and he knows that his dad has clenched his fist and punched him there.

He swears and shout and claws, but his dad doesn’t stop.

‘My son,’ his dad grunts. ‘Is not going to be a fuckin’ fag’.

Even though he knows he shouldn’t, Richie replies. ‘Too fucking late’.

That earns him another punch. This time it’s to his still healing nose, and there’s a crack and a spurt of blood, and Richie knows that this time it’s broken.

He thinks of Eddie. He thinks of his brown eyes and his cinnamon freckles, and he somehow thinks that this is worth it, because what the fuck is his dad going to do after this? He’ll know about them, and he’ll stop caring, like he does with everything Richie does. His mom probably won’t even give a fuck.

His dad doesn’t really care, Richie knows, his dad is just angry at the world.

So he takes the punches, and after his dad stumbles into the living room after hacking up some spit onto Richie stiff and shaking form (because suddenly he’s lying on the floor) he clambers to his feet and stumbles over the kitchen phone and dials Bill’s number.

‘Hey, Big Bill,’ he mumbles, and his mouth sounds like it’s full of cotton (blood, he realises, it’s blood). ‘Do you think you could borrow you dad’s car and come and get me? I think I might need to go to the hospital’.

Bill’s hanging up and saying yes before Richie can even comprehend what’s happening (he knows Bill knows what’s happened, because Bill knows everything), because his head is starting to feel a little heavy, and he’s eyes are starting to feel like they’re weighing him down (and, fuck, why can’t he see anything?). So, he wipes away the blood on his nose, holds the aching of his ribs, and winces as he stumbles past the living room (where the TV is blaring) and out the front door.

He trips over a good five times because he can’t fucking see.

He sits on the porch, head between his knees, for only six minutes before he hears a car engine stop and footsteps running toward him, and with one look up he sees big brown eyes and tear stained cheeks.

‘Hey, Ed’s,’ he murmurs, because even through the horrendous blur, he knows that pale skin and dark mop of hair anywhere.

‘Richie,’ the voice sobs, and cold hands are finding his aching jawline and pain blooms there, there, and everywhere. Still, though, he leans into the touch. ‘What the fuck happened? Bill – Bill, go find his fucking glasses! We need to get him to the hospital-’

He doesn’t hear the rest, because suddenly the buzzing in his ears because far too loud, and he’s passing out in the arms of Eddie Kaspbrak.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> super short, sorry! happy halloween!

When Richie wakes up, he feels like a sack of shit.

The first face he sees is that of some Doctors (after he balances his glasses on his aching nose), who wastes no time in telling him that he’d been knocked, broken his nose, but that he was fine other than that. Bruised ribs, but that could be dealt with, with some good ol’ painkillers.

Richie nods like he knows what the fuck the Doctor is talking out because, hey, he must be in a Hospital, then?

The Doctor leaves, and then there is Eddie.

Richie shifts upright, and sees that he’s still in his clothes from earlier. That makes him feel better. He wasn’t that fucked up that they thought to put him in a gown. He winces as he moves, and Eddie all but throws him back onto the stiff Hospital bed with wild eyes and messy hair.

‘No, Richie!’ he yelps, flopping into the chair by the side of Richie’s bed and dragging it to his side. ‘Stay the fuck still! They said your rubs are-’

‘Bruised, yeah,’ Richie croaks, and his nose aches with the movement. ‘Doc said’.

Eddie nods, stares, and then sniffs like he’s about to start crying. Richie starts in surprise, then feels like a fucking idiot when he winces and yelps. ‘Don’t move, idiot!’ Eddie snaps, before settling back into his chair. The bright lights of the room only illustrate just how tired and pale Eddie looks, and Richie feels like even more of a dick. ‘Did you tell him?’ Eddie murmurs.

Richie nods and snorts, then regrets it instantly when his nose flares up in pain and his ribs ache. ‘Yeah. He didn’t take it too well’.

Eddie narrows his dark eyes and juts his jaw out. ‘Your mom came and paid your bill,’ he bites out.

Richie wants to snort again, but doesn’t. ‘Real concerned mother, was she?’ He doesn’t want Eddie to know that it stung, knowing his mom had been here. He thinks, once, she might have been concerned to see him in this state. That was a long time ago, though.

Eddie doesn’t reply to that. ‘You need to tell the police, Rich. Bill and I lied to the nurses. We said you got cornered on the street. They’re going to want to know if you want to press charges, but you could tell the truth, they’ll-’

Richie shakes his head. ‘No. No, Ed’s. One more year and I’m out of this shit hole, and so are you. No point in getting put into fucking care, or something, before I turn eighteen. Right?’ He presses the word out, magnified eyes giving Eddie a look that has the smaller boy staring at Richie with a sadness in his eyes that Richie doesn’t like.

‘…Right’.

Richie nods. ‘When can I get out of here? And how long have I been out?’ He feels numb. Feels like shit. Will his dad even fucking remember touching him? Will his mom even acknowledge him? Probably not. It didn’t matter, though. They fucking knew now, and Richie had nothing else to hide from them.

Eddie brings a hand forward and curls it around Richie’s wrist, where the Hospital band sits. Richie moves so that their fingers lock, and Eddie blushes. Richie would’ve grinned, had his face not hurt like shit. ‘About two or three hours. I don’t know. I’ve been sitting with Bill. Mike and Stan came by after Bill called them, but they’re…well-’

Richie frowns. ‘What?’

Eddie shifts. ‘I mean, she just showed up…I think it was a surprise, but no one was home, so she knocked on Stan’s door, and then Mike’s…but-’

Richie stares because, somehow, he knows. ‘Eddie-’

‘It’s Bev,’ Eddie grins, a smile edging into his face and rubbing away the sad, grim look. ‘She’s come back for a little while’.

-

It doesn’t take long for Richie to beg to be discharged after that, but not after the Doc pumps him full of some painkillers and gives him a repeat prescription for a month. 

Bill is waiting in the waiting room when they wander out, Eddie’s arm around his waist, and he grins in relief when he sees Richie bumps his forehead against the others boys, careful to avoid his glasses. ‘Sleep at mine tonight?’ Bill asks, and Richie nods without missing a beat.

They pile into Bill’s care, with Richie wincing and grimacing and Eddie pushing him into the backseat and buckling his seat belt. Richie, in all honesty, is starting to feel a little dopey from the painkillers.

‘Why did she come back?’ Richie asks.

‘I don’t know,’ Bill replies, turning a corner. ‘I only spoke to her on the phone. They’re at the Quarry, now. She said...she just felt like she needed to’. 

Eddie takes his hand and grins, cheeks dimpling. 

They make their way to the dirt path before the Quarry, and Richie holds his side as they walk long the rocks and dirt that was so much a part of their childhood. He can hear voices, he thinks, and when they’re close enough he sees her, sitting between Mike and Stan at the edge of the Quarry.

The she turns, grins, and stands, and he doesn’t give a fuck about his rubs as he starts for her and wraps his arms around her waist.

She’s still pretty. Still tall. Still has red curly hair and bright eyes and a killer smile. She’s wearing shorts and a jumper and big black boots, and she still smells of Camel cigarettes. She laughs and then yanks away from him, her hands curling around his cheeks gently.

Bev frowns. ‘What happened to you, Trashmouth?’ she murmurs sadly, but Richie knows the others will have told her by now.

‘Eddie likes it rough,’ he jokes, and she laughs and starts for Eddie next, who grins and scoops her into a hug.

Then it’s Bill, and there’s a softness between the two when they hug, because it was only Richie Bill had ever told about the kiss he and Bev had shared.

They sit in a circle after that, with Richie leaning heavily back on his hand ad his nose throbbing behind the bandages that sit awkwardly behind his glasses. Bev tells them that she felt herself forgetting. She doesn’t know why. They tell her the same.

‘I just...I just felt like I needed to come back to Derry for a little,’ she tells them, older and wiser and chewing on her lip. She lights a cigarette and hums in thought. ‘I could never remember much of Derry, then...I don’t know. I remembered that summer, and something clicked. It was only when we passed the border that I remembered you all. No Ben, though,’ she mutters.

‘He left a while ago,’ Eddie cuts in, sitting beside Richie. Richie leans against him, his ribs aching.

Bev frowns. ‘Not whole yet,’ she mutters.

They all knows what she means.

They don’t mention the night before. They don’t mention Richie’s bruised face or the way he leans against Eddie, a sadness about the both of them that they’re not sure what to do with. They, all of them, take advantage of this moment of happiness; of calm. 

They stay out until the stars come up,and plan to meet up again tomorrow. Eddie kisses every inch of Richie’s face before the Trashmouth heads to Bill’s.

Richie knows, without a doubt, that life could hurl the shittest of shit situations at him, but he’s not sure he could ever care.

Because he finally got the girl.

Or, y’know, boy.


End file.
